


Welcome to New York

by LovelyLola



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bellamy as a speech writer, Bellarke, Clarke as a Med student, Clubbing, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Hotel, Implied Sexual Content, Magnets, New York City, summer job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLola/pseuds/LovelyLola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke works the night shift at a hotel a few subway stops away from university, hoping to reduce her debt before starting medical school in the fall. Usually the hotel is quiet, leaving Clarke to ignore Finn - who is a bartender at the hotel restaurant - while whispering conversations to Wells - who is the night shift security guard. However, everything changes when a man comes in just past three a.m., checking-in to the hotel for a whole month. </p><p>"His smirk is still present. And Clarke can’t resist calling out, </p><p>'Oh, and Mr. Blake; welcome to New York!' </p><p>She hears his laughter once more before the elevator doors close."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Check-In

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at fan fiction for The 100, and I am excited (and nervous) to work on this story. I got the idea while on a recent road trip, and just couldn't shake it. I am a die-hard Bellarke fan; and I hope this lives up to their relationship, despite not being in The 100 universe.

Getting a job at the hotel had been easy. It is run by the Jordan family, and is where Jasper had spent most of his time growing up. Clarke became friends with Jasper at orientation; and after Wells got the night shift security position, it wasn’t long till Clarke was the night shift desk clerk. 

It wasn’t an ideal job, what with working from Monday night through Friday morning, eleven p.m. to seven a.m. But Jasper’s uncle Hugh seemed to favor college kids, as they are willing to take less pay and crappy hours that someone with experience in the hotel business would refuse. And they don’t care because, _hey_ , its a job. 

And Clarke was thankful she had enough _before_ clothes - thats what Wells and her called the time when their world was simple and happy, before their lives seemed to crumble and implode - to fit Hugh’s requirement of a white shirt and black bottoms. 

It had been stiflingly hot today, so Clarke had opted for a black skirt that just barely reached her knees and had donned a braid to keep her unnecessarily long hair out of her face. The heat was a reminder that the city’s weather could be brutal even at eleven p.m., and this summer was just starting.

However, she instantly regrets her decision when Finn makes his way towards her, beaming, with a cup in his hand. 

“Hey Clarke! Happy almost weekend!” He says, his tone joyful. 

“Hey. Same to you.” she replies, smiling at him. His happiness is infectious but it still doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“I got you a coffee when I went on break.” He says, holding the cup out to her. “I didn’t know what you liked. But who doesn’t like a caramel frappuccino on a hot day?” 

“Um thanks.” Clarke says, taking the coffee from him. But he continues to look at her optimistically, and she resigns herself to taking a sip. “Its great.” She says, trying to keep her face neutral. Finn grins at her before gesturing to the restaurant located on the entry level of the hotel. 

“Well, better get back. Those drinks aren’t going to pour themselves.” 

Clarke manages to keep a smile on her face until he disappears around the corner, before breathing a sigh. She shuffles over to the check-in desk, greeting the day clerk Harper. 

“Let me just clock in.” Clarke tells her, trying to ignore the look Harper gives her. Not that it is a bad look, per say, but Clarke has always felt out of place talking to other girls. Or just talking to people in general. 

Clarke retreats to the room off of the lobby, where the employee check-in is located. The screens lining the opposite wall show the live stream from the security cameras, casting the room in a strange light. As she clocks in, Clarke heard a stifled “hmh” behind her, and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“What?” she says, turning to find Wells staring at her, barely concealing a grin. 

“Nothing. Just the way you are holding that cup, like it might spontaneously explode . . .” 

“Shut up.” She replies, smacking his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he takes the sugary concoction from her hands, and replacing it with a insulated Dixie cup. 

“Monty’s?” 

“Yes ma’am. Just the way you like it.” 

Clarke barely keeps the joy off her face as she takes a sip of black coffee. 

And it is at moment’s like this that she truly appreciated Wells, who has somehow become the rock in her life. After his mother’s death and her father’s arrest, they had become close despite only living in the same place for a few months at the age of thirteen. 

But that didn’t stop them from bonding over the tragedies that had struck them both in the span of six months. And when Clarke had suggested that they attend the same university in New York City, he had agreed. 

And now she can’t imagine her life without him. He is the one person who knows her past, understands how guarded she is, and better yet, how she takes her coffee. 

But Clarke is snapped back to reality when Harper calls, “About done, Griffin?” 

Wells scrunches up his face at her, making her laugh before ducking back out to the desk. Harper leaves as soon as Clarke sits, leaving her to trudge through what is bound to be another uneventful night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Clarke had been correct about how her night would turn out.

Most nights, she would check-in one or two people, and only a few couples ever stumbled out of the restaurant when it closed at midnight. Finn would always say goodnight, giving her a smile before heading out the door around one a.m. And then it was just her and Wells. And typically Jasper, as he worked as a cook in the restaurant for the dinner rush before turning into an acting manager at night. However, he had chosen to visit his girlfriend Maya half way through summer break. So Clarke was left to work through the night shift without her trusty manager next to her, until he returned at the start of the semester. 

However, tonight turned out to be a little more exciting.

The hotel is located just outside the touristy part of the city, which means it is a bit more reasonable in price. This usually means the clientele is typically business workers in town for a meeting, or families coming to have a little fun during summer break. 

So when a couple comes strolling in just past three in the morning, Clarke is surprised to say the least. 

The woman is drunk but still striking, stumbling in her high heels. She is fit with long dark hair, hanging off the arm of a man that - well, Clarke could only call him godlike. 

He has on a short sleeve button down with several of the top buttons undone, showing off his sculpted arms and toned chest. His jeans hang off of his hips in a way that Clarke has only ever seen in magazine advertisements. But she can tell the rips in the knees are from wear which is confirmed by the tattered condition of his boots. 

But rather than distracting from his looks, his state of disorder only makes him more attractive, more appealing. 

This disorder continues to his hair, his dark curls a mess around his ears. The freckles that dust his cheeks spread sparsely down onto his neck, and even appear on the sliver of his chest that is exposed. His lips are spread in a grin as the girl’s hand disappears behind his back, probably to slide into his back pocket. Or so Clarke hopes. 

And his eyes are a dark shade of brown, although his dilated pupils are making it difficult to tell from this distance. 

Yet when he turns toward Clarke, the grin slides off his face. He whispers something to the girl, who giggles again in response and sits on the couch near the entrance. And Clarke doesn’t know if it’s just her imagination, but his pupils seem to become completely black - blown out - as he approaches her. 

“Well, hello there.” The man says, leaning on the check-in desk.

“Hello sir. Just a room for the night?” Clarke asks, trying to keep her voice steady and professional. 

“No, I have a reservation for a month. Bellamy Blake.” He replies cooly, sliding his driver’s license towards her, along with a credit card. 

Clarke chooses to keep her mouth shut, ignoring the many thoughts that come to mind. 

Like why is he staying so long? What is keeping him here? Business? Obligation? Pleasure? And speaking of pleasure, is that girl behind him his girlfriend or something else? And what would it take for Clarke to win a night with him?

Clarke shakes her head, trying to clear her inappropriate thoughts. 

Sure, she has seen hot guys before, has been hit on. But she has never been the girl involved in a one night stand. And she will not let her guard down, not even for this god of a man in front of her. 

When she finally finishes, she looks up to see Blake staring at her with a weird look on his face. 

“Here you go, Mr. Blake.” Clarke says, sliding the cards back to him along with two room keys. “You are on the third floor, room 303. It’s one of our better rooms, and features a queen sized bed. You and your girlfriend should be very comfortable.” 

“Oh, she isn’t my girlfriend.” He says, leaning closer to her and lowering his voice. 

“Oh?” She replies, mimicking his movements as his slight chuckle reverberates across to her. 

“Yah, she’s just a girl I picked up at a bar. First night in the city, thought I’d celebrate my arrival.” Clarke can only manage to nod, feeling a heaviness settle overtop of her initial attraction to this man. “You see, I’m not really the commitment type.” 

“I see.” Is all Clarke can manage to say, trying not to look into the dark eyes that are looming at her. 

“I bet you’re the relationship type though. Going on dates, getting flowers, meeting the parents. You probably _love_ being treated like a princess.” 

Clarke can’t help but snort, feeling a rising animosity towards this man. 

Who is he to say who she is? 

Clarke hasn’t gone on a date in a year, hasn’t received flowers from any man except her father, hasn’t introduced a guy to her family since her date to the junior prom. It has been nearly three years since she saw her mother; and, some time before that when she last saw her father. And she has never, _ever_ been treated like a princess. 

Thankfully, the woman calls out from her spot on the couch, and prevents Clarke from making a scene in the hotel lobby. 

“Well Mr. Blake, it seems you are needed else where.”

“It seems I am, although it is a shame - to bad you aren’t free. . .” He says, giving her a wink, while she tried not to sneer. “And please call me Bellamy, Miss . . .” 

“Clarke Griffin.” She say, extending her hand which Blake takes, trying not to laugh. “But _please_ , call me Miss Griffin.” 

Blake doesn’t even try to stifle his laughter, his eyes gleaming as his mouth settles into a smirk. 

“I think I’ll stick with Princess.” 

And with that he walks over to the woman, who seems to have sobered up a bit and is tapping her foot impatiently. But she recovers when Blake wraps an arm around her. He pulls her towards the elevator, and when it arrives, they file in. 

When he turns, the girl’s hands are already working to undo his shirt buttons. But Bellamy’s eyes seem to rake over Clarke, as if he wishes she was in the elevator with him instead. Yet, his smirk is still present. And Clarke can’t resist calling out, 

“Oh, and Mr. Blake; welcome to New York!” 

She hears his laughter once more before the elevator doors close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. Week One: Declarations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its only been a week since Bellamy Blake checked-in, but he's already gotten under Clarke's skin. And she can't seem to shake him - even if she wanted too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter two! I didn't plan on having this out so quickly, but all of the comments and kudos made me work harder. I probably won't have chapter three up till the end of the month, so hopefully this will do until then. 
> 
> Just a disclaimer before reading: I have nothing against the United States Government or the state/city of New York. I also know nothing about medical school or any programs that go along with it. 
> 
> And now, on to the chapter.

Clarke doesn’t see Blake again that night, or for many night afterwards. 

She does see the dark haired girl, who went upstairs with Blake, leaving a few hours after he checked-in. She glares at Clarke on her way out, but hasn’t been seen at the hotel since that night. 

But she does see a sting of girls leaving in the early hours on Tuesday and Wednesday; they hair a mess while they fumble to straighten their clothes. But thankfully, they never look Clarke’s way. And she thanks her lucky stars she doesn’t have to see Blake either - or that’s what she tells herself. 

It is Thursday night, a whole week since Blake checked-in, and the night seems more uneventful than normal. No one has come to check-in, no one has called for towels or extra pillows, and the bar has been deserted since Clarke arrived at eleven. 

Clarke even spends a whole thirty minutes with Wells in the security room, playing cards to pass the time. But she makes herself return to the lobby just before 12:30 a.m., resigning herself to a slow night. She is just thinking about going to make herself a cup of coffee, when a woman comes bursting into the lobby. 

She has medium brown hair that seems to cascade effortlessly around her face. Her eyes are bright, and the expression she wears is determined yet hopeful. 

She spots Clarke, and makes her way to the desk. Clarke tries to ignore the burning feeling in her chest, but she can’t seem to keep it at bay. 

This girl is obviously gorgeous, and definitely here to see Blake. 

“Hey, I was hoping you could help me?” The woman asks, her brown eyes searing into Clarke’s blue. 

“I can try.”

“I was wondering if there is a guy who works here by the name of Finn?” 

“Finn Collins?” Clarke asks, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. 

“Yah - So does he? Work here I mean?” 

“Oh, yah. He is the bartender. Should still be in there if you want to see him.” 

The girl nods enthusiastically, and follows Clarke over to the restaurant doors which are locked. 

Clarke knocks, calling out for someone to open the door. In seconds, the door swings open to revile Kyle Wick, who sometimes helps out around the hotel when he’s free. 

Wick looks at Clarke grumpily, but his expression changes when it lands on the girl next to her. Clarke ties not laugh while Wick opens and shuts his mouth, trying to find something to say. But the woman doesn’t seem to notice, as she peers around him to find, 

“Finn!” She cries out, running past Wick and towards the other man. 

Finn is obviously caught off guard, and doesn’t have time to recover before the girl is in his arms.

“Oh, I finally found you!” She says, pressing herself to him. He still hasn’t recovered, but is saved from replying when she reaches up and kisses him. 

Clarke’s eyes grow wide at the scene in front of her, trying to figure out the puzzle that is unfolding. 

Finn has only been working at the hotel for a month or so, having moved to New York at the start of the summer. But he has never mentioned a girlfriend, or any one from back home. He has flirted with Clarke and some other girls who have come into the bar. Thankfully, she has never reciprocated his feelings. But it is one thing to be hit on by a coworker, and another being hit on by a guy with a girlfriend.

The couple finally pulls apart, and turns to face Clarke and Wick. 

“Oh sorry, reunions . . .” The girl says, but her expression is far from apologetic. 

Finn looks completely lost, glancing from Clarke to the girl in his arms, and back again. His eyes seem to be pleading, reaching out to Clarke in a way that says _Let me explain_. But Clarke just shrugs, not really concerned with Finn or his relationship. Although she’s sure that surprise and disgust are written on her face.

Clarke chances a glance at Wick, who seems to have turned to stone. He isn’t giving away anything, but his eyes remain glued to the woman as his face steadily turns pink. 

“How about you take off early, Finn? I can help Kyle close up the restaurant for the night.”

Finn looks like he’s about to protest, but the woman speaks up. “That would be great! Thanks so much.” 

The couple moves toward the exit, and Clarke feels a hand blush up against her arm before they leave.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Clarke spends the next hour with Wick, making sure the restaurant is back in order. She just finishes wiping down the bar when she hears the phone ring.

“Go ahead, I can finish this.” Wick says. Clarke barely nods before bolting to the lobby. 

“Hello.” Clarke says breathlessly. “This is . . .”

“Yah, I know who you are Princess. Do me a favor, bring me something to eat.” 

Clarke tries not to yell into the phone, breathing deeply before replying. “The hotel restaurant is closed for the night, Mr. Blake. If you would like a recommendation for . . . “

“No, no. I don’t have time. Just make me something yourself. I’ll pay you thirty dollars.” he replies, his frustration evident through the phone. 

“Should I make it for two?” is all she can manage to say, hating how hard her voice sounds - _envious_ even. 

“Yah, sure.” And with that, he hangs up.

Clarke sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Hey Wells?” 

“Yah?” he says, sticking his head out of the security room. 

“Watch the desk for me?” 

“Sure, but take a walkie. Just in case.” 

Clarke catches the walkie he throws at her, and clips it to the top of her black pants. Heading to the restaurant, she finds Wick just turning off the lights. 

“I have to do something.” She tells him when he gives her a questioning look. “I’ll clean up.” 

Thankfully, Wick doesn’t protest. 

Clarke heads to the kitchen, searching for a pan. She finds one, and makes the one thing she can actually cook; grilled cheese. When their finished, she puts them on plates and cuts them in half.

Going back to the lobby, she stops by the vending machines. She has just enough change to buy two small bags of chips and a couple of sodas. Trying desperately not to drop part of her makeshift meal, she rides the elevator to the third floor. 

Standing in front of room 303, Clarke prepares herself for what she might walk into; probably Blake in a robe with a naked woman in his bed. 

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, knocking on the door. 

“Finally! I’m starving” Blake says when he appears in front of her. 

Clarke breaths a sigh of relief that he is wearing sweatpants, but she can’t help staring at his bare chest which is on display. 

But he doesn’t seem to notice, snatching one of the plates from her hand and eating half of the sandwich in one bite. He gestures for her to come in, and she tries to control her breathing as the door swings shut behind her. 

She can only manage to contain her gasp of surprise when she surveys the room around her. There are papers scattered everywhere, as if a paper mill has blown up in his room. The only spot not covered is in the middle of the bed, a laptop laid next to it.

Blake moves to sit in said spot, his grilled cheese nearly gone. 

“Here.” Clarke says, holding out the second plate. She figures it must be for him, as there is no one else in the room - a fact that makes Clarke’s stomach flip. 

“No, that’s for you.”

“What?!” 

Blake laughs at Clarke’s shocked expression. “Ya, for you Princess. Although, I’ll take those chips.” 

Clarke can’t help but laugh, throwing both bags of chips at him and placing a soda on the nightstand. 

“Sit.” He says, gesturing to the chair in the corner of the room. She does so and waits for Blake to continue. But he just stares at her for a moment, waiting - “Are you gonna eat or what?” 

Clarke tries to cover her laugh with a disgruntled sigh, but she fails. Giving him a pointed look, she takes a bite of the sandwich before he continues. 

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” 

“Hmh?” 

“Would you listen to my speech? Tell me what you think?” 

Clarke manages to nod, despite the fact that her eyes must show her skepticism. 

Blake opens his laptop and glances at Clarke once before beginning. 

“Everyone knows the condition of New York City. How we were once the murder capital of the world, with gangs standing on every corner. How we inspire many television shows, displaying crime and corruption. And while we have improved the city with the help of the state government and the police department, there are still some at risk of dying on the streets - the abandoned children who have to fight every day for . . .”  
 As Blake continues, Clarke begins to focus less of his actual words and more on his conviction; his passion for this cause evident in the tone of his voice. His eyes gleam as he reads from the screen, and Clarke feels herself drawn in - attracted to the fire in his soul, and the way his lips form around his words. 

Clarke tried desperately to control her breathing, holding onto her plate as if it will anchor her to the present and hide the heavy beating of her heart. 

She doesn’t realize he has finished or that she is openly gapping at him, until he clears his throat. 

“Well?” 

“Um, it’s really good. Great even.” She says, fumbling over her words as Blake smiles at her. 

“Good. Now, I can relax.” He says, his conviction fading to peacefulness as he begins to inhale his chips. 

“Can I ask - what is it for?” 

“Weren’t you listening? It’s for a charity that . . .”

“No, not that. Like, why are you writing it?” 

Blake seems to blush slightly, before answering. “It’s a job opportunity, the reason I came to the city actually. You have to write a speech for a charity, present it to the New York City mayor; and if you win, you get to be his speech writer for his upcoming campaign.” 

“Oh, I see.” Is all Clarke can manage, trying to conceal her dislike. 

But Blake must notice, laughing. “Not a fan of the mayor, huh? Planning to vote for the other guy?”

“No. I, um, actually don’t vote. Not a fan of government, in general.” She replies; trying hard not to think of her dad. Remembering him calling out to her, his suit disheveled as he’s dragged away from his office in handcuffs.

“Yah, me neither. Actually got the opportunity on a fluke. I was a maintenance worker on Capital Hill. And then one day, I’m laughing at some official giving a speech and some guy asks what’s so funny. So I tell him that the speech is crap. He gives me a once over before telling me about this opportunity. So trust me, I know how stupid the system is first hand. But everyone has to make a living. And my sister is happy I’m in the city so. . .” 

Clarke only nods, trying to process the random bit of information this man has given her. 

“So now its your turn to spill, Princess. What makes you hate the system?”

“Um, it has to do with my family. . .”

“Ah, family is alway the problem. Must be nice to have one though.” 

Clarke can’t help snorting. “Anything but.” 

“Come on, Princess. I’m guessing you are an only child. You are probably your parents’ pride and joy, getting everything and anything you want.” 

“You know nothing about my parents.” Clarke say, her voice suddenly dropping to a deadly tone. 

“Well at least you have some.” Blake replies on the verge of yelling, anger radiating off of him. 

“What?”

“Yah, you heard me. My father skipped town as soon as he found out about me, and Octavia’s doesn’t even know she exists. My mom is just that _great_ at choosing men.” He says, his voice raising in volume. But he can’t seem to contain himself, spitting out his words at her. “And then - _then_ , my mom went and got herself killed in a gang fight. Got caught in the crossfire while buying drugs. So please, _excuse me_ if I sound a tad resentful at the fact that your parents are around!” 

Bellamy Blake is only an inch from Clarke’s face, his anger washing over her. His words are like daggers, throwing them at her as if it can somehow take away his pain, as if he is unleashing his past onto her. And even though Clarke wishes she could be anger and yell back at him - tell him he knows nothing of her world - she can’t.

Clarke looks up at him and sees a hurt boy grown into an angry man. And he has used his anger to reach out to her for some reason, maybe seeing something in her eyes that connects them to each other. Perhaps noticing her own guarded gaze, keeping everyone at an arms length. Or maybe he just wants someone to pour his venom into, wanting to relieve his own pain. 

And even if that is the case, she can’t seem to find the strength to yell back at him. 

And she knows, in that moment, she has to tell him. To tell him her past; something she never talks about, and no one but Wells knows. Something she buries so deep, that she hopes one day she’ll be able to forget. 

But she knows she must tell him. 

Because maybe then he will know he is not alone with his haunted past, that they are alike in this way. And to show that she trusts him - for some unknown reason - just as he seems to have trusted her. 

“You’re right, my parents gave me everything they could. But . . .” She hesitates, looking into his eyes which seem to be fixed to hers. Clarke notes he still hasn’t stepped back, and forces herself to be strong, continuing, “My father. He was a New York Senator. He was so happy with his job, even though he felt bad going to D.C. for long periods of time. But during the summer, my mom would let me go with him, and that alway made it easier. My mom - she is a surgeon - so she couldn’t take time off all the time. But my dad alway said that so long as he had me, he had a piece of my mom with him too.” 

Clarke stops for a minute, steadying her breathing. She ties desperately to remain composed, not wanting to break down into tears. 

“Anyways, my dad found out something that the city was trying to cover up. He tried to bring it to light, but instead he was arrested. I don’t even know what charges they brought against him. He never had a trial. I don’t even know what prison he is in, if he is still alive.” 

The tears slip out before she can stop them, and Clarke keeps her head bowed to conceal them. But when she feels Bellamy’s hand under her chin, she looks up. 

He’s staring at her with a strange expression; a mix of pity, desperation, and perhaps understanding. His hand comes up to her cheek, wiping away a few of her tears. 

“Probably created quite a bit of family distress, huh?” 

Clarke can’t help but laugh. “You don’t know . . .” 

But at that moment, the walkie sounds from her hip. 

“Clarke, there is a man down here waiting to be checked-in.” Wells voice sounds from the device. 

“On it.” She replies, breathing a deep sigh. She looks up to see Bellamy is still standing in front of her, his breath washing over her.

“The line of duty calls.” He says, stepping back at the same time she moves away. 

All she can do is nod, making her way to the door before she hears, 

“Hey, Clarke. Here.” And then his hand brushes against her own, placing something in hers. 

Thirty dollars. 

She offers him a small smile before leaving the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Clarke sits on a bench outside the hotel, breathing deeply - hoping to have a moment of silence before she kicks into high gear again.

“Hey there. Nice to see the Princess gets out of the castle every once and awhile.” 

Clarke looks up to see Bellamy - _Blake_ , Clarke corrects herself. He is smiling softly at her, taking in her dress just as she notes his suit and tie. Her nickname - princess - sounds softer now than any other time he’s used it. 

“Yah, you know. Can’t keep the masses waiting.” 

He laughs lightly, coming to sit next to her. 

“Don’t tell me you have somewhere to be, except bed maybe.” 

Clarke shakes her head, trying to suppress any thoughts of her in bed with Bellamy next to her. She bites down on her lip to stop from smiling. “I wish. Shadowing a doctor; nine to five, three days a week.” 

“Shadowing?” Blake replies, the shock evident in his voice.

“Yah, I basically follow this surgeon around all day. I’m starting med school in the fall, so I need all the help I can get.” 

“Ah. Something to connect you to dear old mom, huh?”

Clarke can only nod, suddenly feeling suffocated by Bellamy’s presents. She told him to much, reviled to much of her past. Things that only Wells knows, and this realization now weighs down on her. 

“And if your mom pulls some strings, you take the opportunity. Even if you haven’t talked to her in years. Can’t let resentment hold you back.” Clark replies curtly, her bitterness evident. She stands suddenly, not daring to look at him. “I should probably get going. . .”

“No, wait.” Blake says, reaching out and taking her hand. “You don’t have to be there till nine. I don’t have to be at city hall till ten. Lets get some breakfast.” 

“No, thats alright.” Clarke says, feeling flustered; but whether thats due to reviling her past or from being under his gaze, she can’t be sure. 

But Clarke knows this man can’t possibly want to spend time with her, not after knowing about her messed up life. 

Yet when she turns, she sees his eyes shift from pleading to guarded as he takes a step back. 

And something about this shift makes her reach out; not wanting the small connection she has with this man to slip away, just as so many other things have.

“I mean, I don’t like eating in the morning. But a cup of coffee would be great.” She places her hand in his, and sees a slight smile pull at his lips before nodding. 

They walk in silence to a coffee shop just two blocks over from the hotel. They order; Clarke taking black coffee and Bellamy ordering his with cream and sugar. They bicker for a moment over who will pay, until Bellamy shoves a few dollars at the cashier.  
 They make it back to the curb, coffee in hand before Clarke resigns to saying goodbye. 

“Well, thanks for the coffee.” 

“Anytime.” he replies, and Clarke tries to stifle her smile as she once again imagines this - _them_ \- becoming something solid in her life. Something that she can depend on, even if it’s only in her imagination. But Blake brings her back to reality, saying, “Have a good day.”

“Yah, you too.” But when he turns, she pulls him back. “Just one more thing.” She reaches up and fixes his tie which had been slightly crooked - something Clarke secretly found adorable. “Can’t have you running off to city hall looking a mess.”

He beams at her, perhaps the first real smile she has seen grace his features. 

“Thanks” He says; his eyes gliding over her face as his hand hovers a few inches from her waist, as if he might reach out and embrace her. But he seems to recover quickly, stating, “Goodbye Clarke.”

And with that he turns away, moving down the street and turning at the corner. And Clarke knows he can’t hear her, but she says it all the same. 

“Goodbye, and good luck Bellamy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it lived up to expectations! Let me know what you think!


	3. Week Two: Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy become closer, but also fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three! I didn't think I'd have this finished any time soon, but I just can't seem to stay away. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think it develops their relationship, as well as showing some of the other characters. 
> 
> There is more explicit language in this chapter than the others. Nothing over the top, but just wanted to give a warning.

Clarke starts to have dreams about Bellamy. Nothing complex or complicated. Usually just him smiling at her or walking with her in the park. But seeing as Clarke hasn’t dreamed of any men except her father - and ok, _maybe_ Ryan Gosling - she is shocked that he is appearing during her sleeping hour at all. 

Yet she doesn’t see the man in question when her weekend comes to an end. She also notices the lack of women traipsing out of the hotel at all hours of the night in various stages of undress. 

But she does see Finn Collins as he tries multiple times to corner her. So far, she has been able to avoid him, ducking into the bathroom or hiding in the security room with Wells whenever the bartender comes around. 

She knows she can’t avoid him forever, but she is hoping to make it to the end of the week before confronting him. Because then she won’t have to see him for a few days, and maybe, _just maybe_ , everything will blow over. 

But Clarke isn’t so luck, as Finn corners her coming out of the supply room. Room 115 had called for some extra soap and a toothbrush, and she had been heading to the elevator when Collins appears out of no where. 

“Clarke! Wait!” he saids, running up to her. “I want to talk to you.” 

“I can’t now Finn, I have to head upstairs.” 

“Just a minute? I promise.” He asks, giving her a small smile. And this smile is what makes her give in, resigned to the situation. 

“Ok, just a minute.” 

“Clarke, I - I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d follow me. I -” 

“Why did you leave her in the first place? She is obviously crazy about you.” 

“Yah, but . . . I don’t know. Things back home are complicated. I couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t come. I never imagined she’s follow me. But I, I don’t love her anymore. I think I might be falling -”

But Clarke stops him short. “Don’t Finn. We aren’t anything other than coworkers - friends at the most. I - You can’t break up with this girl just because you think you might possibly have feelings for someone else.” 

“But Clarke. It’s not just someone, it’s _you_. And I know you don’t feel it yet, that you aren’t as ready as I am. But I can prove it to you, that we could be something. That we could be great.” 

And it is only then that Clarke realizes Finn has walked her into a wall, his hands on either side of her face. She feels as if she can’t get enough air in her lungs as she stares up at him. 

“Finn, don’t” She says, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away. She thought he’d comply, but her touch only seems to encourage him. He pushes her back, his chest pinning her to the wall. 

“But Clarke, we are perfect. Don’t you see that?” he says, his hands wrapping around her wrists, keeping them at her side.

“Finn, I said stop. Let me go, _please_.” 

But his face continues to come toward hers, his eyes glued to her lips. 

And Clarke is trying to reason with him, or maybe slap him. She hasn’t decide which would be best. But before she can choose, Finn is pulled off of her. Clarke blinks several times, not believing her eyes. 

“ _Bellamy?_ ” 

“Hey, Princess. This guy causing you problems?” 

“No. Um, I mean, its nothing.” She replies, watching as Finn pulls away from Bellamy’s grasp. The bartender looks between the two of them for a moment before gazing at her. 

“You might be to caught up in Freckles here, but you’ll see. Me and you, we’ll be great together.” 

“I’d be careful with calling people names, if I were you.” Bellamy growls, pushing Finn further away so he can stand in front of Clarke. “And if you have to try _this hard_ to convince a girl to give you a chance, its better to give up. Listen to Clarke, leave her alone. And if I find out you’ve been bothering her, you’ll have to answer to me.” 

Finn seems scared for a moment, backpedaling. But he looks at Clarke once more, nodding at her before heading back to the bar. 

Bellamy whips around to face her, his eyes examining her. “Did he do something to you?” 

“No, nothing I can’t handle.” Clarke replies, watching as some of Bellamy’s tension melts away. But the cress in his forehead is still present as he takes a step towards her. 

“Are you sure? Don’t want me to go in there and punch him?” 

Clarke can’t help but laugh. “No need. He is harmless, really; just got carried away.” 

Bellamy just nods, his eyes still on her. 

“Um, did you need something or?” Clarke asks, wanting to break the silence that is growing between them - a tension radiating from their locked gaze. 

“Yah, actually. I was wondering if you could recommend somewhere to eat?” 

“What, not going to demand I make you something?” she laughs, heading back to the front desk with Bellamy following. 

“No. I won’t inconvenience you.” He says, laughing slightly. “I was actually suppose to met my sister for dinner, but I fell asleep. I am hoping to avoid her, should she come looking for me.” 

Clarke laughs out right as she moves to stand behind the desk, looking something to write on. “Your sister intimidates you, huh? And falling asleep _before_ midnight? Losing you’re edge, Blake.” 

It’s his turn to laugh, the sound filling up the room. “Hey, you’ve never met Octavia! And unfortunately, I have. Comes with the new job, I suppose.”

Clarke’s head shoots up, a small smile pulling at her lips as she connects the dots. “You got the position with the mayor then? Congratulations!” 

Bellamy blushes slightly, running a hand through his hair. “Yah, thanks. It’s no big deal, really.” 

But Clarke knows he’s pleased, just by the way he’s smiling. 

“Anyways, here’s some places you can go.” Clarke says, handing him a list of dinners and restaurants that are her personal favorites. 

“Thanks Princess.” He says, looking at her once more before leaving. 

But it doesn’t seem long till he returns, a box in one hand and a cup in the other. 

And he heads straight towards her, stopping in front of the desk. “Here.”

“For me?” She says, taking the to-go containers from him. He simply nods. “Well, thanks Bellamy.” 

“It’s nothing, really. Just wanted to make sure you have whatever you need, Clarke.” 

And Clarke can’t stop the blush rising under her skin, something she’s sure Bellamy notices. But he simply jerks him head once - nodding - before leaving. 

Clarke watches as he gets into the elevator, a warmth spreading over her. 

She looks down at the box, opening it to find pancakes. She simply shakes her head, taking a sip of coffee and breathing out a sigh of happiness. 

“So, he knows how you take your coffee, huh?” 

Clarke turns to see Wells, watching her from the security room entrance. 

“What? I mean, yah. I guess.” 

Wells just shakes his head. “That bad?” Clarke feels her face turn warm once more as she struggles to keep eye contact. “Not to step over the line or anything, but be careful. That guy, he might be trouble. And I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Clarke nods, trying hard not to show just how much Wells’ words effect her - how much she wants him to be wrong. And hopes that Bellamy never proves him right. 

“Yah, yah. I can handle myself. And if not, I know I always got you to have my back.” Wells smiles at her, about to disappear into the security room. But Clarke stops him, “Hey want some pancakes?” 

She knows his answer before he speaks, “Of course!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Need a refill, Clarke?” Monty asks from a table over. “It’s on me.”

“You know, I think I can afford my own coffee.” 

“Yah, so long as its with my manager discount.” 

Clarke just sticks her tongue out at Monty before turning back to her reading. 

It’s Thursday afternoon, and Clarke finds herself at her favorite coffee shop. Not only is it the midway point between the hospital, campus and hotel; but it is also run by Monty. Ok, not _run_ by Monty; but he is the manager. And he gives her his eighty percent off discount, which means she can get a bagel and coffee for just under three dollars. And she always manages to get her favorite table, at the back of the cafe next to the large window. 

Just as Clarke is becoming absorbed in her reading once more, she feels a hand on her shoulder, making her lean back. Only to look up at an array of freckles beneath dark brown eye. 

“Well, it must be my lucky day.” Bellamy says, before gesturing to the seat across from her. ‘May I?” 

“Please.” Clarke says, barely controlling her enthusiasm. Bellamy chuckles but doesn’t comment, taking the free chair. “So, what brings you here?” 

“Well, I was recommended this place by a very pretty receptionist at the hotel I’m staying at. In fact, maybe she’ll stop by and I can introduce you to her.” 

Clarke can’t restrain herself from slapping Bellamy’s arm, smiling at him. He beams back. 

“So, what are you reading?” He asks, taking her papers before biting into his sandwich. 

“It’s an article someone from the hospital recommended. All about the new discoveries of stem cells.” 

“Riveting.” He mumbles through a mouthful of food, making Clarke wrinkle up her nose at him.

“Manners, Mr. Blake.” 

“That’s Bellamy to you, Princess.” 

Clarke just shakes her head, grinning like an idiot. Bellamy takes another bite before looking back at the article. She watches as he seems to become enthralled by the words in front of him. And she can’t help but watch him in fascination. 

It is probably the most relaxed she’s ever seen him, his dark eyes glide across the page with easy. Clarke notices his hair hanging down across his forehead, and the way his hand continuously brushes it back - he’ll probably want a haircut soon, but Clarke can’t help thinking it’s adorable in its unkept state. She also notes the way he chews on his lip. And Clarke knows he’s doing it subconsciously - or she thinks he is. But it catches her attention, making her incapable of thinking of anything else. Except maybe the way his lips would feel on hers, or how his mouth could map out her skin. 

Clarke shallows hard, blinking several times before pulling her eyes away from him. 

Instead she looks out the window, leaving Bellamy to eat his lunch and read. She watches as the people on the street run to and fro, hurrying about their day. And Clarke wonders how long Bellamy can stay with her. 

She turns toward him, intending to ask when he has to leave; but she’s instantly frozen. 

Instead of reading the article as she assumed, Bellamy is looking at her. 

His head is still bowed, and his eyes gleam up at her from beneath his lashes. A slight flush is coloring his tan skin, and his hair still hangs in front of his eyes. 

Clarke can feel a blush spreading over her, and her stomach does a flip - something that has become a regular occurrence around Bellamy. 

And just as she’s about to open her mouth - to say what, she’s not sure - her phone rings. 

“Um, I better answer.” she say, Bellamy just nodding as he continues to watch her. 

“H-Hello?” 

“Clarke, how in the world are you up so early?” Wells say over the phone, his voice hoarse with sleep. 

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the afternoon.” She says, as if that explains everything. Wells only laughs. 

“Yah, but after working nights and going to the hospital in the day; I don’t understand how you aren’t exhausted.” 

“Well, a girl has to have some coffee.” She laughs, and she watches Bellamy’s eyes grow darker. It takes her breath away, cutting her laughter short. 

“At Monty’s then? Put him on the phone.” 

Clarke can barely get the words out; but thankfully, the cafe manager is close by so he hears her. “Monty.” 

He smiles at Clarke and Bellamy before taking the phone. 

She doesn’t pay attention as he speaks to Wells, choosing to look at the man across from her. Bellamy hasn’t moved his eyes away from her. He is still chewing on his lip, and Clarke can’t help but stare. He must notice because his lips pull into a smirk, and Clarke knows she’s turned bright red. But she can’t look away, and she watches as Bellamy’s tongue starts to work its way across his bottom lip, licking - 

“Clarke?” 

“What, yah?” She says, snapping her gaze up to Monty, who is looking between her and Bellamy. 

“Um, sorry. Wells just wants to know if you’ll go see a movie with us? He says he’ll buy; ticket, popcorn, soda, everything.” 

Clarke can’t help sighing, looking at Monty’s hopeful expression. “Fine, but tell him he has to bring me a change of clothes for work.” 

“Done. But is it ok if Miller comes?” 

Clarke nods, and she hears Wells talking through the phone. 

“Wells wants to know if it’s ok if Finn and his girlfriend comes? And Wick too?” 

Clarke can’t help groaning, already feeling the awkwardness of the upcoming night. But she doesn’t see a way out of it, so she nods. 

“And your friend can come too, if he wants. We can go at a time when you’re free.” 

Clarke can’t help but whip her head back to Bellamy, hoping that he will say yes. 

But she watches as he shakes his head, a hardness in his eyes that she hasn’t seen before. “No, I can’t tonight. Maybe another time.” 

Monty only nods, wrapping up his conversation with Wells before handing Clarke back her phone. She doesn’t bother checking to see if Monty hung up, unable to look away from the man across from her. But every second her eyes remain on him, her heart sinks deeper until she can’t take it any longer. 

“Bellamy? Is something the matter?” 

“Nope.” But when Clarke raises an eyebrow at him, he can’t seem to resist adding, “I just didn’t realize how _popular_ you are.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Nothing. Just noticed that every person going to the movie with you is a guy; well, besides bartender’s girlfriend.”

“And?” 

“Well, I didn’t know you had so many men bowing down at your alter.” Clarke knows her mouth is hanging open, gapping like a fish out of water. But she can’t think of what to say. It doesn’t seem to matter though, as Bellamy continues, “Tell me, is it daddy issues that makes you seek out men, or are you just _that much_ of a bitch that no one will be your friend besides naive boys?” 

Anger and hurt must be written on her face, but Bellamy seems unfazed as his own expression remains cold. 

And suddenly, Clarke’s eyes are blurred with tears she’s desperate not to shed. She tries hard to restrain herself, to slow down her breathing and unclench her fists. But she’s shaking uncontrollably, and she can’t stop the words from slipping out, 

“How dare you!? How could you say something like that to me?” Bellamy’s face remains the same, but something in his eyes shift - showing something like guilt. But Clarke refuses to acknowledge it as she continues, “I - I trusted you. I told you things about myself that I don’t even like to think about, let alone say out load. I thought you were different. But I can see I was mistaken.” 

Something has definitely changed in Bellamy’s expression; but whatever it is, he doesn’t back down. “Well sorry to let you down _Princess_ , but you seem to have trusted the wrong person.” 

His words are pointed, but his voice breaks. And the way he calls her princess is much more venomous than any other time he’s used it. Clarke can no longer keep the tears from falling as they flow down her cheeks. And she can’t look at him, not when she knows the pity on his face is due to her tears. 

But when she turns, she sees half the cafe is watching their argument. This only causes more tears to fall down her face. 

Monty is instantly at her side, his hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “I think you should leave.” He says to Bellamy. 

“No problem. My lunch break is over as it is.” 

Clarke still doesn’t look at Bellamy, but she hears him rise out of his seat. And he must leave, as Monty practically forces her out of her chair and into the back of the cafe, away from prying eyes. Yet Monty doesn’t say anything about the incident, only holding her as she cries.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Clarke wishes that her week would just end already. She feels tired, worn to the bone, and no amount of Monty’s coffee or Wells’ comfort seems to help. But it’s Friday morning, and she only has a few hours left of work before going to the hospital. Then she plans on sleeping most of the weekend, although she’s sure Wells will make her have a movie marathon at some point.

She’s sitting at the desk, trying desperately to stay awake when the phone rings. 

“Hello?” 

“Get up here, _fast_. And bring as many towels as you can.” 

Before she can reply, Bellamy hangs up; leaving Clarke angry as well as exhausted. She doesn’t bother telling Wells she’s leaving the lobby, to tired to explain where she is headed. 

Going to the supply closet, Clarke grabs as many towels as she can carry before dragging herself to the third floor. When she reaches Bellamy’s room, she notices the door is a jar. She knocks, but the man just yells, 

“Get in here!” 

She tries to control her rage, which seems to be increasing every second. 

Coming into the room, she still doesn’t see Bellamy. But it’s hard to see at all, as every light is turned off. But there is a glow coming out from beneath the bathroom door. And just as she’s about to knock, the door swings open. Clarke is not only flooded with light; but also with the sight of Bellamy, _naked_. 

“What the hell took so long?!” 

“Why the hell are you nude!” She replies, hiding her face behind the stack of towels in her arms. “For christ’s sake, cover up!” 

She thinks she hears him laugh, but chooses to ignore it. She remains standing there, eyes closed, until he says, “Ok, it’s safe to look now.” 

Clarke peeks out from behind the towels to see one is wrapped around Bellamy’s waist, a stupid smirk pulling at his lips. 

“So, what’s the emergency Mr. Blake?” She says, her tone deliberately flat. This seems to reign in his triumphant expression, before he ushers her into the bathroom. 

“I was going to take a bath, so I was filling the tub. But I must have fallen asleep because next thing I knew, water was everywhere.” 

Clarke can feel her frustration rising as she takes in the scene before her. Towels are covering the floor, completely soaked and useless. Water still pools in places despite the towels, and the tub is still filled.

Clarke sighs deeply before walking over to the bathtub and pulling the plug, letting the water escape down the drain. Placing the clean towels on the back of the toilet, she starting ringing out the used towels before throwing them in the now empty tub. 

“Here.” Bellamy says, passing her a towel before she can pick it up. But it only makes the water run out of the towel, getting her shoes even more wet. “Oh, _crap_. Clarke, I’m sorry, I -” 

But Clarke doesn’t respond, turning her back on him to face the tub. 

“Clarke, _please_. I made this mess, let me help clean it up. Just tell me what to do.” 

She sighs, before saying as calmly as possible, “I think you’ve done enough already. I can handle -” But when she turns, she sees Bellamy with one knee on the ground. His legs are separated, causing the towel to fall away and, “For fuck’s sake, Bellamy! Go put some damn clothes on!” 

He seems shocked at the heat in her words, before scrabbling to his feet. “Right, um, I’ll just . . .” And he leaves quickly, shutting her into the bathroom. 

Clarke continues to clean the floors, finally ringing out all the used towels - including the white robe that typically hangs on the back of the bathroom door. It only takes a few of the towels she brought to finish cleaning up the mess. She has just gathered the damp towels into her arms when Bellamy reappears, now dressed in pajama bottoms and a white teeshirt.

“Here, let me carry some of those.” 

“No, no. I’ve got it.” Clarke insists. “But, would you mind getting the door?” 

“Of course.” He says, and Clarke tries to ignore the small smile pulling at his lips. 

They walk together in silence to the elevator. But when Bellamy moves to get in with her, she stops short. “What are you doing?” 

“Going with you to wherever you’re headed. How else will you manage with both arms full?” 

Clarke can’t seem to think of a response before the elevator door closes. But when she reaches the first floor, she is grateful Bellamy has come as she still has to make it to the laundry room. 

Walking quickly down the hall, she notes a man standing at the counter talking to Wells. Clarke calls out, “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, sir. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Then she moves to the laundry, slipping into the room with Bellamy. 

She goes to a free machine, pushing the towels in and starting it. She turns, having forgotten Bellamy completely. But when she looks up, his eyes are boring into her very being. But he isn’t looking at her face. Instead, his gaze is fixed on her shirt. 

Looking down, she feels herself blush. Her shirt has become wet from the towels and is now transparent, showing her pale blue lace bra. 

“I don’t think you can work in those clothes.” He says, his voice rough. 

“I -I don’t have anything else to wear.” She says, trying not to show her embarrassment. But she knows she isn’t succeeding by Bellamy’s grin.

“Well then, you’ll just have to borrow mine.” And suddenly, he stands with his bare chest on display for her. His freckles, as well as his abs, catch her eye and her mind runs wild. But she remains focused, taking the shirt he is handing her. 

“Um, turn around.” She says, making the man laugh outright. But he complies and she does the same; not wanting him to see her, should he try to sneak a peek. 

Facing the machines, she quickly pulls her shirt over her head. But before she can slip Bellamy’s on, she feels hands on her waist. Turning, she finds Bellamy behind her with his eyes blown out. As his one hand continues to caress her side, the other comes up to her neck, pushing her hair aside to revile one of her shoulders. His eyes never leave hers as his face draws closer, lowering his lips to the place where her shoulder and neck meet.

Clarke barely suppresses a moan as Bellamy kisses the juncture. She has to resist reaching back and fisting his hair. But she remains composed - that is, until he pulls her flush to him, her back to his front with his arms tight around her. He bites down, sucking at her pressure point. She can’t withhold her moan this time, pushing herself closer to him. Her reaction seems to bring him back to reality, laughing as he pulls away from her; leaving her flustered and confused. 

But Bellamy simply pulls his shirt over her head, fixing it so it covers the mark Clarke is sure he’s left on her skin. 

“I should let you get back to work.” He says, moving further away as she hastily tucks the shirt into her skirt. 

She turns in time to see Bellamy’s hand on the door, but his eyes show just how effected their moment has left him. Clarke tries to find something to say; but before she can, Bellamy continues, “By the way Clarke, blue looks good on you.” 

And with that, he exits while Clarke tries desperately to process what has just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!


	4. Week Three: Fall Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finally meets Octavia, who insists that Clarke come clubbing with her. But this only seems to cause Clarke more problems, especially where Bellamy is concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter four! I'm going to apologize ahead of time for the length of this chapter. I thought about splitting it in half, but it didn't have a cutting off point that didn't disrupt the flow of the chapter. So, sorry in advance. 
> 
> I hope you like it despite the length, and please let me know what you think!

Clarke goes from avoiding Finn to avoiding Bellamy. It requires the same tactics, but this time its much easier as Bellamy doesn’t seem to be trying as hard. Or maybe its just because she works with Finn, while Bellamy seems busy with his own job, often coming in well into the night. 

It is on such a night that something seems to click in Clarke’s muddled brain. She had been sitting at the desk, talking to Finn and Wells when Bellamy comes in. The guys all share tense expressions; Finn due to his previous encounter with Bellamy and Wells due to Clarke’s hurt feelings. But when Bellamy’s eyes land on hers, she sees the same dark expression that he wore in the cafe after her phone call. And suddenly Clarke realizes _he is jealous_. 

Not that that excuses him for his actions. 

Clarke is still pissed at him for what he said in the cafe. How could he possible throw her past in her face, using her father against her? How could he stand to hurt her in the worse way imaginable? 

Even if he had seemed sorry, seeing her cry. That didn’t erase the words he said. 

But did he say sorry? No. 

Instead he flooded his tub, leaving her to clean up the mess after exposing her to his naked body. 

Clarke would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about seeing him naked since that night. She definitely had, the image usually flashing in her mind before falling asleep. And that didn’t even include their moment in the laundry room, something she _has_ been dreaming about. His hands on her waist, his mouth on her skin. She usually awoke with a start, her sweaty skin sticking to Bellamy’s teeshirt - yah, she’s been wearing it to bed, _sue her_. 

But despite wanting him, she still felt hurt and angry when she saw him. And for now, she thinks its best if she doesn’t see him at all. And maybe by the time he checks-out, she won’t be thinking about him at all - letting him be a distant memory of the past. 

This need for escape has Clarke counting down the minutes until she leaves for the night, a weekend spent in bed reading almost in reach. But just past midnight, a couple comes into the hotel. 

A lean woman, with dark brown hair and searing eyes comes marching into the lobby. Clarke has to restrain a flinch at the slight of the brunette heading towards her; the woman seeming like a force of nature. 

If the woman didn’t intimidate - and ok, frighten - Clarke, the man behind her definitely did. Tall, shaven, and covered in tattoos; the man could easily take down Clarke, or even Wells for that matter. But he seems calmer than the woman, coming to stand behind her at the desk. 

“Hello.” The woman says, her words biting. “I was wondering if you could tell me which room my dick of a brother is staying in?” 

“I’m sorry, we aren’t allowed to disclose that kind of -” But Clarke stops short at the look the woman is giving her, and the man’s expression seems to verify _Don’t mess with her_. “Um, can I see some i.d.?” 

The woman shoves a student i.d. at her. Clarke notices they attend the same university, and has to force herself not to ask her major. Instead, she looks at the name, Octavia Blake. 

“Ah, so you’re the intimidating sister.” Clarke says, laughing lightly while handing the i.d. back to the woman.

“So you’ve heard of me?” Octavia replies, the man behind her laughing outright. “Mind telling me where to find him?” 

“Third floor, room 303.” 

Octavia nods at her before storming off to the elevator, leaving the man to say, “Thank you” before hurrying after her. 

Clarke just manages to make a cup of coffee before she sees the couple once more, this time accompanied by Bellamy. She ducks her head when his eyes land on her, but she is forced to look up at Octavia’s voice. 

“Thanks so much for your help.” 

“It was no problem.” Clarke says, only looking at the woman, until, 

“Yah, Princess. Thanks for selling me out.” 

Clarke has to fight her biting response, her anger already escalating. But she is snapped from her thoughts when Octavia says, 

“So _this_ is Clarke? Nice to finally have a face to go with the name. Or nickname, I should say.” 

Clarke can’t stop her mouth from gapping, wondering why Octavia knows her. Or rather, wondering just what Bellamy has said about her. 

“Listen, Clarke. I know you and my brother aren’t getting along right now. Trust me, I understand. This is the fourth dinner he has flaked out on; _so yah_ , he can be a jackass. But, why don’t you come out with us Saturday night? The three of us are going to a club, you should definitely join us.” 

Clarke now feels utterly lost, trying to process multiple thoughts at once. First, Octavia knows who she is, and that Bellamy called her princess. Second, Octavia has heard about her and Bellamy’s fight, and acknowledges her brother’s stupidity. And lastly, she wants Clarke to hang out with them. 

But all she can manage to say is, “Um - I” 

“Octavia, Clarke probably doesn’t want to come.” Bellamy says, a mix of discomfort and annoyance coming over his face. 

And something about the look makes Clarke snap. She recalls the pity in his eyes when she cried, his worry about Finn hurting her, and the triumphant smirk after leaving her wrecked in the laundry room. And suddenly she wants to get payback, rather than coward and hide. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

“We are going to try this new place my friend opened called Grounders.” The man next to Octavia says, before adding, “I’m Lincoln, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Lincoln.” is all Clarke can manage, giving the man a smile as Bellamy’s face becomes dark - does the man _really_ have no limit to his rage or jealousy? 

“You have to come!” Octavia adds, smiling at Clarke which makes her forget Bellamy completely. 

“Ok, but - don’t these places cost a lost of money?” Clarke asks, lowering her voice and hoping only Octavia hears.

But the brunette only laughs. “Please! Us girls can get whatever we want, even if Lincoln didn’t know the owner.” The wink Octavia gives her makes Clarke blush all over, but the woman just continues, “And if not, then Bellamy can always cover you.” 

“No, I don’t want -” 

“Hush now, Bellamy would be happy to assist you in any way. Wouldn’t you, Bell?” 

Clarke finally turns to him, the first time she has looked at him directly all night. She seems to have caught him off guard, his face showing surprise as well as what Clarke thinks is hopefulness. He glances back and forth between the two women, before sighing. “Of course.” 

Octavia nearly claps with joy, beaming triumphantly. “Great. He can also give you a lift.” 

“Oh, okay.” Clarke says, suddenly overwhelmed by the Blake siblings. “Okay, let me just -” and she hastily scribbles down her address and phone number, before handing it to Bellamy. 

“Great. We’ll see you Saturday.” Octavia says, as her and Lincoln head to the exit. 

Yet Bellamy just stands there, staring at her with a look Clarke can’t begin to comprehend, before saying, “I’ll being seeing you, Princess.” Then he follows his sister out of the hotel. Clarke doesn’t see him again that night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The revenge Clarke wanted to get on Bellamy turns out to be more work than it’s probably worth.

She had spent over an hour in the mall Friday night, looking for something to wear. She had never actually been to a club; it had never been on her list of things to do. But she found what she thinks will work - a skin hugging cobalt dress that was only fifteen dollars. 

But instead of tormenting Bellamy by looking as hot as possible, Clarke feels as if she is only torturing herself. Between the constraining dress, wedge heels, and the hour she spent on hair and makeup; she is not excited about her night out. She even groans when Bellamy texts “here”, meaning she has to walk up the hill to reach him. 

When she spots the beat up pickup, she knows it is Bellamy’s and climbs in. The look of shock on his face does take the edge off of Clarke’s mood through, making her smile. 

But Clarke should have known it wouldn’t last when Bellamy opens his mouth. “I see you heard me - in the laundry room.” 

He smirks at her expression, probably showing both her shock and horror. She just hopes that her attraction to the jerk isn’t obvious. 

“And what would that be?”

“That you look good in blue.” 

This leaves Clarke seething; but whether it is from anger or sexual frustration, she can’t be sure. 

So instead, she reaches for the radio. Turning it up, she stops on a station playing Ariana Grande. Only to have Bellamy scoff, and turn on jazz. 

“What the hell is this?” 

“Good music.” 

“What?! No, I -” 

But Bellamy only turns it up louder, until the speakers are vibrating with the sound of a saxophone. 

“You’re an ass!” She screams over the music. 

“Tell me something new Princess.” 

Clarke can’t help glaring at him; but when this only makes him smile more, she decides to look out the window. She watches as they move into a section of the city that college kids usually frequented. But even as the city flashes before her, she can’t stop the rage boiling inside her. 

Bellamy doesn’t seem to care that he has hurt her feelings, that he is being an idiot, and that he is pissing her off more with every passing second. 

Clarke knows she has reached her limit when they pull into a parking garage. She gets out the truck as quickly as possible, slamming the door shut. She ignores Bellamy’s protests, and instead takes off toward the stairs. She goes down three floors, onto the street without caring if the man is following her. She makes it to the corner, about to cross the street when she suddenly feels a hand around her waist, pulling her back. 

“What the -” Clarke says, trying to ignore the burning sensation she feels at Bellamy’s touch. But when she looks back at him, she sees only concern.

“Are you trying to get run over?!” He states, pulling her further onto the sidewalk. Clarke is about to protest when a car zips around the corner. She hadn’t checked to see if she had a walk sign - she’s guessing she didn’t. 

“You are so irritating!” 

“And why is that?”

“Because one minute, you’re using my past against me; and the next, you’re saving my life. Just - decide already! Hate me or don’t hate me, make up your mind!” 

Bellamy looks taken aback by her outburst, but there is a sincerity in his eyes when he says, “I don’t hate you, Clarke.” 

“Well then, why did you say all those things? In the cafe. And why haven’t you apologized?” 

“I - I’m not good at apologizes, so you might be waiting awhile.” Clarke looks away, shaking her head at him. 

What is the use of talking to him? If he didn’t hate her, but said all those mean things, what is she doing here? She is just wasting - 

But her thoughts are interrupted by Bellamy grabbing her chin, making her look at him. “But, if it makes a difference, I didn’t mean it. Those things I said, I didn’t mean any of it.” 

And the small smile pulling at Bellamy’s lips makes Clarke’s heart soar. Soon she’s smiling along with him, feeling as if the weight of the world has been lifted off of her. 

Not that she’s going to let him off the hook, not just yet. 

“Well thanks.” She says, checking to see if she can walk across the street. When she has the green light, she glances back at Bellamy to see him checking her out. She smirks before saying, “Now, if only we can get you to admit your jealousy issues.” 

“What!” the man exclaims from behind her, making their way to Lincoln and Octavia, who is waving at them frantically. “I’m not - I don’t. . .” But he is saved from answering by Octavia taking Clarke’s arm. 

“Finally! Took you guys long enough!” She says, pulling Clarke along. “You look great, by the way.” 

“Oh,um, thanks.”Clarke manages, already overwhelmed. She notices the dirty looks the people on the sidewalk are giving them as they make their way towards the club. “Um, Octavia? Aren’t we suppose to wait in line?” 

“Please. Between the two of us and Lincoln’s connection. Now, smile and stick your ass out.” 

Clarke tries to control her shock as Lincoln steps forward to talk to the bouncer, a large man with a long beard. They laugh before the man ushers them in. But not before he leers at Octavia and Clarke, licking his lips as they walk past him. Clarke senses Bellamy behind her, growling at the man before throwing his arm around Clarke’s shoulders, pulling her snug to his side. 

Octavia just laughs at her brother, while Clarke leans up to whisper, “And you say you’re not jealous.” 

This time, Bellamy only laughs as they head to the bar. 

“Drink up!” Octavia screams over the music, pushing four shots their way. 

“What?!” Clarke says, in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t worry! We are just warming up!” The woman says, lifting her glass to Clarke’s. 

Clarke tries not to cough loudly as she throws back both her shots quickly. But Bellamy must notice, as he chuckles and rubs her back. Clarke tries to ignore the way his hand’s make her shiver. 

“Now Clarke, what’s your poison?” Lincoln asks, as Octavia orders something called Sex on the Beach. 

“Jack and Coke.” She says, remembering how that was her father’s favorite.

“Brave Princess.” Bellamy says in disbelief, ordering a beer for himself. 

Octavia begins to talk rapidly to Clarke, who tries to listen over the music. But Clarke doesn’t have to try for long, as the other woman soon pulls her off her bar stool. 

“Lets dance!” 

“Oh, no. I -” 

“Yah, come on. You too, Bell!” 

“Nope. No way.” 

This must be an argument Octavia usually loses, as both Bellamy and Lincoln remain at the bar.

And Clarke is left to struggle on the dance floor. But the pounding music and alcohol cause Clarke to loosen up. And before she knows it, her and Octavia are practically grinding up against each other while various men try to join in. 

“Oh please! You boys can’t handle this!” Octavia tells two guys who look like they belong to a country club. “You are _so_ not our type. Also, we are taken!” 

Clarke looks at the woman, who only laughs at the blonde’s expression. 

“Please, Clarke. As if you don’t know.” 

“Know what?!”

“About Bell! How he’s crazy about you.” 

“No way. I -”

“Yes way! I know my brother! And I’ve seen him with loads of girls. But I have never heard him talk about them the way he does about you. Or the way he acts. I mean, just look at him!” 

Glancing at the bar, she sees Lincoln talking to Bellamy but he’s obviously not paying attention. In fact, he only seems to be focusing on the dance floor. And Clarke hopes he is looking at her with his dark, demanding, and completely blown out eyes. 

And Clarke suddenly thinks Octavia might be on to something. That maybe Bellamy is as attracted to her as she is to him. 

“Oh, I have a great idea!” 

And suddenly, Octavia pulls Clarke even closer. Their movements seem to draw in a crowd. But this time, Octavia doesn’t tell them off. They are pushing closer, and Clarke almost backs down. When she feels hands on her hips, pulling her back toward someone and away from Octavia, Clarke almost snaps. But then she hears Bellamy’s voice in her ear. 

“You really shouldn’t do this to me, Princess.” 

Clarke has to control her breathing and keep herself from push against him to see just how much she’s effecting him. But instead, “It was Octavia’s idea.” 

Bellamy only laughs. “Better watch out, she’ll cause you trouble.”   But when Clarke looks at the girl, the brunette only winks while grinding against Lincoln. 

Bellamy remains on the floor with Clarke through several songs, their bodies pressing closer together. Soon, Clarke can feel every inch of him again her. She has her arms throw around his shoulders, pushing her hips against him. His one hand in on her waist while the other is in her hair. And his face is glued to hers, and something about his expression makes it hard for Clarke to breath. 

“Lets take a break!” He yells as the song changes once again, and Clarke feels like protecting, not wanting him to move away from her. He does keep him arm around her waist though as they move through the crowd. Octavia is next to Clarke in a moment, insisting that she is dying of thirst. 

Once again, Octavia orders shots. Clarke manages to get away with only having one before a pink drink is placed in front of her. 

“It’s good!” Octavia insists, sipping an identical drink. 

Clarke has to admit, its tasty. But as she takes sips from her glass, which seems to be continuously refilled, she notices the room starts to go blurry. She’s having trouble focusing on the conversation around her as she starts to feel light headed. And Clarke doesn’t know if its five minutes or an hour later, but all she knows is she has to go pee. 

“No, but Clarke, we have to be _best friends!_ I’ve never had a girlfriend before, growing up with this one.” Clarke just nods as Octavia elbows Bellamy. 

“Sure thing, Octavia. A girlfriend sounds great.” Clarke replies while sliding off her chair. 

“Where are you going?” The woman asks, pouting. 

“To the bathroom, be right back!” But Clarke only manages a few steps before stumbling. And once again, she senses Bellamy behind her, holding onto her arm. 

“Wow, there. You alright?”

“Pst! I’m _fine_.” But Clarke’s voice sounds off, even to her own ears. 

“Sure. Well, why don’t we go to the bathroom, hm?”

“Bellamy, you’re a man! You can’t come!”

He is smiling at her, and Clarke is smiling back even though she’s not really such why. “No I can’t, but I can walk you.”

They make their way to the bathroom, Bellamy holding on to Clarke as she waits in line. And when she reemerges, he’s leaning against the wall. And Clarke thinks she could get use to Bellamy waiting for her, after work, on a date, in the bedroom. She knows her face is bright red, but he smiles when she makes her way to him. 

“Hey!” She says, practically leaning against him. She wraps her arms around his chest, but he doesn’t seem to mind as his own are on her shoulders. 

“Hey there.” He replies with a smile. “I think maybe we should head home.” 

“What?! NO! I’m having _soooo_ much fun!” 

“Yah, I can see that. But I think you’ve have enough for one night.” 

Clarke groans but lets him guide her back to the bar. He places her in a chair, and she nods along to the music as Bellamy whispers something to Octavia. The woman nods before coming up to Clarke and hugging her. 

“We have to hang out soon! One day this week!” 

“Yes, definitely! Can’t live without my girlfriend!” 

The two women laugh, Octavia taking her hand and leading her out of the club. At the sidewalk, they separate with an agreement to meet up next Friday. 

And Clarke still doesn’t know why they are leaving, telling Bellamy as much as they walk down the street. But when they reach the corner, Clarke’s head suddenly starts spinning. She feels her stomach lurch and bends over. Bellamy is at her side, rubbing her back and holding her. All the while, he whispers in her ear, “It’s ok Clarke. If you feel sick, don’t fight it.” 

But Clarke just shakes her head, holding herself together. “No, I’m fine. Just dizzy.” 

And suddenly Clarke is pulled upright, into Bellamy’s arms. Her own arms instinctively wrap around his neck, and she lets her head rest in the crook of his neck, breathing him in as they make their way to the car. 

It seems like no time before she is back in the truck, and Bellamy is handing her a bottle of water. 

“Drink it. It will help.” 

Rather than arguing, Clarke just nods. She downs the whole thing by the time they are under the city lights. Rolling down the window, the warm breeze washes over her face. She sighs contently, already feeling her head clearing - if only slightly. 

“Feeling better?” She hears Bellamy ask. She turns to look at him, seeing the way he glances at her every so often and the way his hand inches toward her. 

Clarke feels her throat close up, overwhelmed by the sight before her. But she manages to nod. “Yah.” 

“That’s good.” He replies smiling. 

And his smile doesn’t waver, not even when Clarke blasts Taylor Swift. She thinks she even hears him singing along.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When they pull up in front of the hotel, Clarke feels her lightheadedness return, but for an entirely different reason.

“What are we doing here?” 

“I didn’t want you to go home alone, especially since you’ll be feeling this tomorrow.” 

Clarke blushes at the thought of _whatever_ she might feel by tomorrow. But she tries not to think about it, saying, “That’s nice of you.” 

“Yah. Well, every princess needs a knight.” 

They walk into the hotel from the side entrance, taking the elevator and entering Bellamy’s familiar room. 

“Do you need anything? More water or?” 

“No Bellamy, I’m fine.” Clarke says, although her words are coming more slowly now. She works her way to the bed and sits down, suddenly exhausted. Her eyes must close, because the next thing she knows, Bellamy is in front of her. 

“Uh uh. Can’t fall asleep yet.” He says, but Clarke isn’t really paying attention as she is distracted by his freckles. She barely registers him pressing aspirin into her hand, choosing to focus on how his fingers feel on her palm. “Come on, Clarke.” He says sternly, handing her another bottle of water. She takes the medicine and drinks half of the water at Bellamy’s insistence. “Good girl. Now, why don’t we get you into something more comfortable?” 

“Um, y-yah.” Clarke says, her voice shaking slightly. But if Bellamy senses her anticipation, he doesn’t say so. Instead, he stands and moves to the dresser. He pulls out one of his teeshirts and some gym shorts before coming back towards her. 

He kneels in front of her, giving a quick smile before sliding off one of her heels, then the other. Clarke has to try hard not to gasp as his hands skim up her body, over her thighs. He takes hold of the hem of her dress, and she lifts herself off the bed as he pulls the dress over her head. 

And then she is sitting in her underwear, with Bellamy Blake staring at her. 

And Clarke has to focus on breathing as she remembers their moment in the laundry room, or how their bodies moved on the dance floor. But everything seems to narrow to this point, with him look at her like she is his salvation. 

But the spell seems to break when she leans forward, whispering, “Bellamy”. 

His eyes dart away from her face, only to grow wide as he takes in her body clad in only lace underwear. Clarke watches as his adams apple bobs up and down, and she has to fight the urge to plant her mouth on it. 

Bellamy’s hands seem to hover for a moment before ending up on her legs. And even that makes Clarke whimper - just his touch causing a fire to blaze under her skin. 

He groans at the sound, and his hands tighten on her thighs. And then suddenly, his lips are on hers. It is a demanding kind of kiss, one that leaves Clarke grasping for something to anchor herself too. 

Her hands wind up to his hair, pulling slightly which causes Bellamy to moan and move closer. His fingers trail up her body, stopping at her waist where he is holding her almost painfully, but it isn’t enough. She presses her chest to his, eliciting another noise from him as his arm comes around her back. 

And Clarke feels wrecked. She has never wanted anyone so badly, almost to the point of blind need. And it is this feeling that makes her wrap her legs around his hips, pulling herself forward so she can feel his cock through the layers of clothing. When she rocks her hips against his, he pulls his lips away from hers, muttering “Fuck.” 

But then his hands are on her shoulders, pushing her away from him. 

“Clarke, we can’t do this.” 

“And why not?” she manages to say before trailing her lips across his jaw to his ear. “I know you want too.” 

“Shit, Clarke.” He groans, his own voice breaking at her whispered words. “Of course I do. I’ve thought about this ever since . . .” But he stops short as Clarke starts to kiss down his neck. He lets her continue, even sighing and moving closer. And Clarke thinks she has won until suddenly he is standing in front of her, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. “It’s not that I don’t want too, but we can’t. You’ve had to much to drink and you aren’t thinking straight.” 

“Excuse me?” Clarke says in disbelief. “I may have had one to many but -” 

“But nothing. I - This can wait. We can just sleep and then -” 

But it is Clarke’s turn to cut him off as anger begins to take hold. “And what if I don’t want to wait? Hmh? What if I am thinking perfectly fine and -” 

“Well, then you will be fine waiting.” 

“That isn’t the point. I - I’ve been waiting around on you for what feels like weeks. Waiting for you to make the first move, waiting for you to apologize, waiting for you to stop being such an ass. And all that time, I watched as girls came and went -” 

“I did apologize! I told you I didn’t mean it! And I haven’t had girls here since my first week in the city, ever since -” 

“Girls came and went, and here I am. Finally, I’ve reached this point and what do I get? I get you rejecting me! Again!” 

“Clarke, I’m not -” 

But she cuts him off once more, the anger and hurt to overwhelm, making it difficult to listen to him. “What makes me any different from those other girls, huh? You’ll take them to bed, no problem. But oh no, not me. I guess I just don’t live up to your standards, is that it Blake?” 

And Clarke doesn’t know when she stood up and started jabbing her finger into his chest, but she is. He looks both shocked and desperate, struggling to respond. 

“No, that’s not it Clarke. Not at all. In fact it’s the exact opposite. You’re -” 

“I’d rather not hear about my many flaws or my daddy issues or whatever else you want to use as an excuse. I get it Blake, I’m not good enough.” 

She turns away quickly, tears suddenly threatening to fall. She grabs her dress and slips it on quickly, not bothering to put on her shoes as she heads to the door. 

“Clarke, wait! Where are you going? You need to stay and listen.”

“I don’t think I’ll like what I hear, so I’m going to save us both some time.” 

She exits the room quickly, making her way to the stairs as the door swings shut behind her. She takes the steps two at a time, wanting to get away as quickly as possible despite her stumbling - the alcohol still effecting her slightly. When she reaches the first floor, she is debating who to call. Wells is the obvious choice, but he went to visit his dad who is back from his tour of duty. So Wells isn’t in the city. She is tempted to call Octavia, but decides against it as they aren’t _that_ close, at least not yet. And besides, seeing a Blake might just piss her off more. There is only one other person Clarke would be comfortable seeing her cry, which she is already on the verge of doing. Trying desperately to see through her blurred vision, she attempts to find the number but looks up when she hears, 

“Hey Clarke.” 

She tries not to groan when she sees Finn walking towards her. His eyes take in her body appreciatively, but his expression turns to worry when he looks at her face. 

“Clarke, is everything ok?” 

“Yah, I’m fine. I’m just heading to the underground. Or maybe to a cab. Did you see any outside?” 

“There’s no need for that, I can give you a ride. Where do you want to go?”

And just as Clarke is about to refuse him, she hears the elevator doors open behind her to reveal Bellamy. He looks just as shattered as Clarke feels, and she can’t seem to look away. 

He makes his way towards her in a daze, reaching for her and muttering “Clarke, let me explain. I -” But when he sees Finn, he stops. The dark look in his eyes returns, but this time it’s wholly concentrated on the bartender. Bellamy’s hand still reaches for her, but Clarke moves away, not wanting to feel the burn his touch will cause. “Clarke, please just come upstairs. Let’s talk -” 

“I think I’ve said enough already, don’t you?” And Clarke just manages to drag her eyes away from Bellamy’s, heading to the door. 

She is actually thankful when Finn follows, accepting his offer for a ride. 

Clarke calls Monty, who answers after one ring and tells her, “Of course you can come over” despite the fact that she can hear Miller in the background. 

Monty meets her outside his building, saving her from Finn. And Monty just keeps telling her to stop apologizing, she didn’t interrupt anything, and this is what friends are for. 

But another wave of guilt crashes over her as she enters Monty and Jasper’s apartment, only to have Miller hand her a cup of tea. Monty listens to her and hugs her when she cries, while the other man tries desperately to make himself small, obviously uncomfortable with the emotional situation. 

Yet, when Clarke tries to get to her feet, Miller steps in. Being carried for the second time that night, Miller walks her into Jasper’s room before placing her on the bed and leaving. 

Monty helps her change into one of his own teeshirts before tucking her into Jasper’s bed. 

And Clarke realizes how lucky she is when Monty wakes her late the next morning, giving her pancakes. He tells her that she is to spend the day with them on the couch, until Wells comes to give her a ride home. And she can’t help but feel loved when her best friend finally does show, not asking questions. He simply gives her a hug, before driving back to their dorms, making a stop for ice cream on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: Bellamy in The 100 books likes jazz music; so if you were wondering why I made that decision, that's why.


	5. Check-Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke avoids Bellamy after their argument, even taking the day off so as not to be at the hotel when he checks-out. But Bellamy seems to have other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the final chapter of Welcome to New York. I hope you all have enjoyed this story as much as I have! I think this wraps everything up nicely. 
> 
> I will be working on a few more stories in the near future; so if you are interested, keep an eye out! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this story! I appreciate each and every one of you. :)

Clarke feels as if she her life has become an obstacle course, constantly avoiding the danger that is Bellamy. And it turns out to be a lot harder to do when he is actually trying to get her attention. 

He would stop by the lobby at all hours. He left notes for her when she wasn’t there, usually hiding out somewhere. He even calls her, leaving voicemails she doesn’t listen to - not that she deletes them either. 

It is for this reason that Clarke asks for Thursday off, saying she is too tired. But really, she just doesn’t want to face Bellamy friday morning when he finally checks-out of the hotel. 

But Uncle Hugh accepts her excuse, as Clarke has never asked for a day off. And the dark circles under her eyes are clearly evidence that she needs a break. 

So Clarke gets an early weekend. 

But this doesn’t stop Bellamy from continually calling her. And it is for this reason that she spends the weekend in Wells’ room, not wanting to be tempted to answer her phone. 

They make it to Sunday before Wells finally looks at her phone, noting the five missed calls, before saying, “Maybe you should answer it.”

“No. I - I can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

Clarke tries to find the words to explain. To tell her friend that she would forgive Bellamy, that she’d give in. And that would only lead to more problems, more pain. Because Clarke knows she cares for Bellamy to much already, and she can’t allow herself to fall any further. 

But she can’t seem to turn the thoughts into words. It doesn’t matter though, as Wells is looking at her with a knowing look.

“Clarke, I know you. You care for him. And you shouldn’t deny yourself that.” 

“How am I suppose to love someone, when I can’t let anyone in?”

Wells has a look, torn between humor and hurt when he says, “What about me?” 

“You’re different.” 

This time, Wells doesn’t hold back his laughter. “Oh, I know. Although, there was a time when I hoped being different would mean something more.” 

His words make Clarke stare, unsure of what to say and unwilling to hurt her friend. 

“Wells -” 

But he stops her short. “It’s ok, Clarke. I knew you’d never feel the same. And even if you did, you are to important. You mean to much to me. I’m happy with the way things are. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see that Bellamy means something to you. And you shouldn’t throw it away because you’re scared.” 

Wells words leave Clarke speechless, suddenly wondering what to do. Looking for the right answer, for there must be one. _There has to be._

Wells only laughs again. “Don’t strain yourself to much.” He says, reaching up to rub away the creases in her forehead. “Just think about it, hmh? All I want is to see you happy.” 

She nods, even though her thoughts continue to race. 

But she manages to distract herself when Wells puts on a movie, watching several that night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Clarke manages to resist answering Bellamy’s calls, and soon he stops trying to contact her all together.

She is thankful he has given up, as it makes her life easier. Easier to look down at her phone and not see his name. Easier to push away her thoughts when Bellamy isn’t walking around the hotel lobby. Easier to forget him if he isn’t around to remind her of all the “what ifs”. 

But it makes it harder too. And Clarke knows that what Wells said is true. That she has started to have real, potentially lasting feelings for Bellamy Blake. That she cares for him in some way. And that she is pushing him away, because she is scared. 

Scared to let him in, and then loss him. 

Because if that happens, she doesn’t know what she’d do. 

So it is just easier to push him away, deny any connection they have completely. 

It will save them both a lot of time and trouble in the long run. 

Or this is what Clarke tells herself over and over again. Trying desperately to convince herself not to call Bellamy. Not to beg for a second chance, which is all to tempting given that fact that she has just clocked out and has the rare friday off from the hospital. 

But she tells herself _“No. No. No. No.”_ , as she gathers her things to leave. 

Yet, when she makes it outside into the already blazing heat, she sees none other than, 

“ _Bellamy?_ ”

“Clarke.” He says, as if its nothing for him to be standing outside the hotel with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

“Why - What are you doing here?” She says, the disbelief in her voice as she takes a step towards him. 

“I’m here for you. I - I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to see you - to tell you.” 

“Tell me what?” 

But as she reaches him, he just pulls her into his arms. Holding onto her tightly, his chest rising and falling quickly before he continues, 

“That I care about you. I - I want us to be a _thing_ , to be together. I tried to push you away, I tried to give up on it. But, I can’t. I just -” 

But his voice breaks as he looks down at her, a look that shows his vulnerability. 

Yet, Clarke can’t help asking. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why now? After all that’s happened? I want - no, I _need_ an explanation Bellamy.” 

He seems hesitant, and Clarke thinks he won’t answer. But when she starts to pull away, he only tightens his grip. 

“I - You have to understand. I’m not the type of guy to be with just one girl. That has never been me. It was always just easier to be unattached, you know?” 

Clarke nods, laying a hand on his chest when she sees the doubt on his face. 

“And then, I saw you. And I knew I wanted you. But, you didn’t seem like the type for something casual. So I told myself that it didn’t matter. Who were you, really? But then, when I saw you and the Bartender - I lost it. And all of a sudden I wanted to protect you, just like I always have with Octavia.” He stops for a moment to laugh, a twinge of bitterness in his tone. 

“I soon realized that I wasn’t the only one that protected you. Not that you needed protecting - seems you can do that all on your own. But I had made such an ass of myself. And like I said, I’m not good with apologies. I _tried_ though, damn it. I tried to do the right thing. That’s why I couldn’t sleep with you, not when there was _any_ possibility of you not being fully aware or -”

But he stops short when Clarke’s hand rests on his face. His own hand reaches up to cover her own, holding it in place. 

And his eyes search hers, looking for what, she doesn’t know. But whatever he sees must encourage him, as he continues, 

“And I was going to talk to you when I checked-out, but you weren’t here. So I called. You did get my messages right?”

“I-I got you’re calls. But I didn’t listen to the messages.” 

And Clarke is scared of how he will react, but it surprised by his laugher, genuine this time.

“Octavia said you’d do that.” 

“Smart one, that sister of yours.” 

He just nods, a smile still on his face as he continues to stare at her. 

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t listen to them.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, because I want to tell you in person. I - I’m sorry, Clarke. I know I’ve been an ass and honestly, acting like I’m unstable. But I will try to do better, I promise. Just, please give me a second chance? Or a first chance, for that matter. Please, I -”

But he doesn’t finish as Clarke reaches up and kisses him. It isn’t lustful, or timid. It is somewhere in between, a sensation that is just shy of making Clarke shiver. 

But before she is able to take it further, Bellamy pulls back to look at her. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it is, you idiot.” 

But she’s the one smiling like a maniac, lost in the delighted expression on his face. 

They stand there for several moments, wrapped up in each other’s arms. But it’s Bellamy who regains his senses first, pulling away enough to hand her the flowers. 

“These are for you, princess.” 

“Why, thank you.” She says, making a show of smelling the flowers which causes Bellamy to laugh. 

“How about we grab a coffee and I drive you to the hospital?” 

“We can get coffee, but I don’t need a ride. I got the day off.”

“Well, as it just so happens, so do I. Lets go crazy and get an actual meal for breakfast.” 

Clarke can’t help but laugh, taking his hand in hers. “Sure, why not? Lets have some fun.”

They spend the rest of the day together. Getting breakfast before Bellamy takes Clarke back to her dorm so she can shower and change - and he is amazed when he discovers Clarke owns The Divine Comedy. Then Bellamy finally sees a movie with Clarke’s friends before meeting up with Octavia and Lincoln. 

Throughout it all, Bellamy is always by Clarke’s side, never letting her go. And Clarke just smiles, repeating to herself over and over again. _“I’m so lucky - so happy. He is worth it, worth the risk.”_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

~ Months Later ~

The sun steaming though the curtains makes Clarke groan before rolling over.

Bellamy laughs, before saying, “Good morning, princess.” 

“Ugh, no. Not morning. More sleep.” She murmurs back, pressing her face into his chest. 

He only laughs again, the arm around her waist tightening as he does so. “It’s already after ten. We are suppose to meet your mom at noon.” 

“Stupid Jaha, having his stupid house warming.” 

“Very articulate, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up, Blake. I’m sleeping.” 

He lets her have a few more moments of silence, before saying, “Remember, no using knives. You promised.” 

Its Clarke’s turn to laugh, remembering Thanksgiving - when she wasn’t paying attention and accidentally cut open her arm. 

_“Get some bandages, or a rag. Anything!” Bellamy cried, pressing down on the cut._

_“It’s not that bad, Bell.” Octavia tried to reassure as Lincoln gets some bandages._

_“I’ll be the judge of that.”_

_“Actually, I think I should be. Since I’m the most qualified.” Clarke butts in, managing to get away from Bellamy so as to clean the cut. But even after she deems bandages to be sufficient, Bellamy still wants to go the hospital. It takes Monty and Miller twenty minutes to talk him down, all while Raven and Wick laugh from the couch - yes, they are officially a couple (Finn had only been out of town a week before the two were all over each other)_

“Ok, ok. No sharp utensils. But that means if there is something that needs cutting, your on duty.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bellamy says, giving a mock salute. Clarke just swats at his chest before rolling out of bed with a groan. 

“Guess I should get ready.” She says, stumbling out of bed and heading for the shower. 

“You really should.” He replies, getting up as well. But when he makes to follow her, she holds out her hand. 

“Oh, no you don’t.” 

“What? If we shower together, we will save water _and_ time.” 

Clarke laughs outright. “If we shower together, we will never leave.” 

Bellamy just gives her a smirk, making is way towards her. But she just shakes her head, hurrying into the bathroom and locking the door. 

“Hey!” Bellamy cries from the other side. “No fair!” 

“It’s for your own good.” She replies, before getting into the shower. 

She gets ready quickly, emerging for the bathroom after braiding her still wet hair. 

“You’re turn.” She tells Bellamy, who just glares at her as he makes his way past her. 

She has only managed to put on her bra and underwear, trying to decide what to wear when Bellamy reappears - with only a towel hanging from his hips.

“Well, aren’t you a sight.” He says, coming to stand behind her. He presses his chest to her back, his hand coming up to her side before moving up her body.

“Uh uh.” She says, swatting at his hand, yet leaning further into his chest. “Later, I promise.” 

Bellamy just sighs. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.” 

She tilts her head back, giving him a kiss before asking, “Which should I wear?” 

“They all look good on you.” 

“Bellamy! You didn’t even look.” 

He nuzzles his face into her neck for a moment before sighing once more. Looking at the clothes laid on the bed, he points to a green dress. “That one. I think I have a shirt that will match.” 

She nods, moving from his embrace to put it on. 

Bellamy helps her zip it up, asking, “Do we _really_ have to go to this thing?”

“You were the one who wanted to meet my mom! So what better time than when Thelonious Jaha is having his first get together at his new place. Besides, Wells will be there and he’s bring his new girlfriend Sasha.” 

But when she turns, she sees the doubt in Bellamy’s eyes. 

“Hey, don’t worry. This will be easy. You’ve already won over Wells, and thats the only opinion you should worry about.” 

“But your mom -”

“She will like you. And if she doesn’t, then I’ll kick her ass.” But when Bellamy doesn’t laugh like she expects, she takes his head in her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you. We’ll get through this, together.” 

At her words, he looks at her and searches her eyes. And she knows he will nod before he actually does so. Because if there is one thing that they are both sure of, it is their strength. They have proven time and time again, they are a good team. And so long as they have each others back, there is nothing they can’t do. 

So she’s not at all surprised when he jerks his head, giving her a gentle kiss before getting dressed. 

And it’s only a few moments before he’s asking, “You ready?” 

“I think so.”

“Wait, why do you have your duffle?” 

“Because, I have to go back to the dorm after brunch.” 

“Clarke,” He says, sighing dramatically, “It might be late afterwards. Besides, you already promised -”

“I have class tomorrow, Bellamy. And I don’t have any more clean clothes or -” 

“We can put in a load now, that way when we get back -” 

“ _Bellamy!_ I pay for the dorm, all of my stuff is there. I have to go there some times.” 

He looks at her for a moment, debating something with himself before saying, “No, you don’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Move in with me.” 

“What?!” Clarke says, her mouth hanging open in shock. 

“Move in, here, with me. You hardly stay at your dorm as it is - you haven’t paid for next semester’s housing. Just, live here instead.” 

“Bellamy, are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to -” 

But he takes a step towards her, putting his hands of her shoulders in reassurance. “Clarke, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to wake up every morning with you next to me, and I want to come home to you each night. _Please_ , make my dream a reality. Move in.” 

Clarke searches him eyes, looking for any form of doubt or hesitation. But all she sees is love. And suddenly, she can see it. Her living here, calling this place home. Waking up to waffles and arguing over blinds - because the bedroom really does need them. 

So she nods, the look Bellamy gives her making her speechless. 

“You’ll do it? Move in, I mean.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.” And then she is in Bellamy’s arms as he swings her around the bedroom. And she’s laughing, her hands wrapped around Bellamy’s neck. He’s laughing too; and Clarke realizes it’s one of her favorite sounds, has known it’s been for some time. 

And her future seems so clear. Being here with Bellamy, having friday night dinner with Octavia and Lincoln, meeting her mother and the Jaha’s for Sunday brunch. She’ll finish school and become a doctor. Bellamy will write the mayor’s speeches, but criticize the politician behind closed doors. They will be happy, and their home will be full of love. 

Clarke feels giddy as Bellamy puts her back on the ground. But his hands never waver, keeping her close before kissing her soundly. When he deepens the kiss, Clarke moans which makes Bellamy pull her even closer before his lips move down her neck. 

And Clarke could stay here forever, could forget everything. But she knows she can’t, so she pulls away with what little restraint she has left. 

“Bellamy, we have to get to Jaha’s.” 

“Ugh, fine.” He says, but the smile on his face hasn’t faltered. “But you’re keeping your promise princess.” 

“Ok, but we have to go get some of my stuff first.” 

“Deal.” He says, throwing his arm around her shoulder as they head to the front door. “And we’ll get everything moved in next week.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Bellamy helps her put on her coat, before shrugging on his own. “Good to go?” 

“I think I am.” she says. 

Clarke glances around the apartment before leaving, not quite believing that it is now her home. 

But when she glances up at Bellamy, she thinks maybe home isn’t a place at all. Maybe it’s something more. And maybe, _maybe_ she has finally found it. 

She can only hope.


End file.
